Surviving Christmas when you’re a parent: Love and joy, come to you

Every year, I try to get organized for Christmas but it never seems to work.

At this time of year, what with all the shopping and working and lights to be put up and snow tires to be put on and office parties to attend and cards to write and turkeys to cook, it’s easy to lose sight of the true meaning of the season, writes Kathryn Laskaris.

Every once in a while, he stomps up to me and mutters: “Snow tires? Today? Tomorrow?”

And I look out the window, point out that it’s not, in fact, snowing and that I need my car today and don’t have time to take it to the tire place. Although, come to think of it, the tire place is across the road from the breakfast place, so maybe Tuesday would be good. I could do with some eggs.

On alternate days, I stomp up to him and ask “Christmas lights? Today? Tomorrow?”

And he looks out the window and points out that it is, in fact, raining and that he has to hack away at the overgrown hedge out front before he can hang the damn lights and that he can’t do that when it’s raining, besides which he’s still raking up all the leaves in the back yard. Stupid trees.

Occasionally, the kids weigh in on the festivities.

A week or so ago, the younger one stomped up to me and muttered something hopeful like “Christmas tree? Today? Tomorrow?” Poor kid. I looked at him as if he had lost his mind.

“But it’s Grandpa’s birthday! And I have to make lunch! For seven people!” (Big Greek Husband pointed out that my math was wrong, as usual, and there would actually be eight people.) “And now it’s eight people! Eight!”

We won’t get into how I had just ruined the cake. As it turns out, in a futile attempt to declutter the kitchen — how many potato peelers does one family need, really? — I had apparently tossed out the hand mixer. Tip: stirring furiously doesn’t work particularly well.

Let’s just say there was an emergency trip to the grocery store to pick up an angel-food cake, and leave it at that.

So it’s not like I’m behind on my Christmas baking because you and I both know very well that I really shouldn’t attempt any. I used to make those slice-and-bake things that you toss in the oven and pretend you’ve actually put some effort into, but the kids saw through that pretty much from the get-go.

Baking aside, I am behind in every other way. Every year, I try to get organized but it never seems to work. Once I started shopping right after Labour Day; all that did was spread out my shopping over months and months instead of a few frantic days in December. I don’t think it saved me any money, and no doubt I lost half the presents somewhere in the back of my closet. (Me in 10 years: “Honey? Why do we have a mint-condition 1996 Buzz Lightyear figurine?”)

What with all the shopping and working and lights to be put up and snow tires to be put on and office parties to attend and cards to write and turkeys to cook, it’s all too easy to lose sight of the true meaning of the season.

But with 20 new little stars shining over a small town in Connecticut this week, perhaps this is the time to pause and take stock of the things that have mattered most to you this year.

Whatever your circumstances are at the moment, I wish you a little comfort this holiday, a little joy in whatever place you find it, and a small measure of peace.

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